


you fall in love more than once

by ArgentLives



Series: live in gal pals [19]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 00:46:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4899034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentLives/pseuds/ArgentLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No, Laurel isn’t Sara, she won’t ever be that—but she doesn’t have to be. Sara had shown Nyssa how to love, of course, that after growing up in a world largely without it she was still capable of experiencing it. She’d been surprised that she’d even been able to feel that much for one person, at the time. </p><p>And then she’d lost her, and she’d thought she’d lost her capacity for it altogether. She’d thought that she wouldn’t—that she <em> couldn't</em>—feel that way about somebody again. She’d been so sure that her heart had been ripped apart and smashed to bits and left irreparable, that it couldn’t love anymore. </p><p>Laurel has shown her that it’s still very much intact, and that she still very much can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you fall in love more than once

**Author's Note:**

> just a little something I wrote because I really enjoy Laurel and Nyssa's dynamic on the show and Nyssa so has a thing for Lance girls.

Laurel doesn’t smile as much as Sara used to, let alone laugh. Maybe she did, once upon a time, but in the time that Nyssa’s known her she’s been much more serious, much less willing to allow herself to let go and be happy. It’s funny, really, considering the business that she and Sara were in together, considering the trauma she knew Sara carried with her, that Nyssa remembers her as the bubbly one, the girl with that infectious smile. 

It’s especially strange considering what they did, what they had to do, and the dark path that they were pushed to follow, compared to the light that Laurel walks in, the fire inside of her that’s always pushing her to do good.

And Nyssa notices these things. She doesn’t really care about much, she’s never really had the chance to, but on the off chance that she does it always seems to be the people she actually cares about who have suffered the most. Because much like with Sara, she has come to care about Laurel, even admire her, ever since she’s left her father’s side and taken on this strange new life—this role as her trainer and friend and confidante. 

Her sessions with Laurel are easily the highlight of the day, watching her improve more and more with each passing one, gauging her intensity, taking pride in her advancements. With practice, she’s a great fighter. She’s got this indomitable spirit, she’s a defiantly stubborn woman, and she’s a worthy opponent. More than anything, though, she’s proven herself to be a good friend. 

Other than Sara, it’s the first time she’s really applied that word to anyone, much less regarded them so fondly. She wonders when she began to allow herself to care, even though she had sworn that she’d save herself from that kind of pain again. She wonders when she started to really see Laurel as _Laurel_ , as her own person instead of just an extension of her sister. 

She thinks it must have been when Laurel had noticed that Nyssa had nowhere to go, when she’d seen how lost she’d been after leaving the League, and she’d invited her to come stay with her. Nyssa hadn’t wanted to intrude, but Laurel had insisted that she did, that she could use the company anyway, and just like that she’d found a new home.  

And that’s what it becomes, truly. Laurel introduces her to a lot of things, like Chinese takeout and pizza and hamburgers, eating ice cream straight out of the carton while watching cheesy rom-coms, bowling and mini-golf, pop and rock music, primetime TV and shopping for pleasure. And it’s  _fun_. She doesn’t know how she’s gone on so long without stopping to enjoy such simple little things in life, but Laurel shows her how, and she stays by her side to help her adjust to this new life every step of the way. 

For the first time in a long time, Nyssa feels…normal. Strange, but normal. Her father might call it weakness, but with Laurel’s support Nyssa has never felt stronger, or more in control over her own life, and her own fate.

But it’s not until the first time that she really hears Laurel laugh, the moment she truly lets her guard down and Nyssa is there to witness it firsthand, that she realizes just how far she’s fallen.

It’s during a training session like any other, only this time, for the first time, Laurel manages to get the best of her and knocks her off her feet. She lands hard on her ass with a loud  _‘thump_ ’, her eyes wide with shock, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. It’s not often that people manage to surprise her.

She’s still trying to get her bearings together, to scrape her dignity up off the floor and brush off her bruised ego, when she hears it. Laurel’s got a hand over her mouth, like she’s trying really hard to keep it in, to muffle the sound, but it doesn’t work. 

At some point she gives up trying and loses it all together, doubling over with laughter and gasping out something that sounds like  _‘the look on your face_ ’. And then Nyssa’s thrown off all over again, like someone’s swooped in and punched her right in the gut, but this time for a very different reason.

The thing is, it doesn’t remind her of Sara at all. Not in sound, not in volume, not in expression. It’s not as soft or as high or as warm—it’s sharper and less bubbly and a little more breathless. And yet…it still makes her feel the same way. That’s when it really dawns on her.

No, Laurel isn’t Sara, she won’t ever be that—but she doesn’t have to be. Sara had shown Nyssa how to love, of course, that after growing up in a world largely without it she was still capable of experiencing it. She’d been surprised that she’d even been able to feel that much for one person, at the time. 

And then she’d lost her, and she’d thought she’d lost her capacity for it altogether. She’d thought that she wouldn’t—that she  _couldn’t—_ feel that way about somebody again. She’d been so sure that her heart had been ripped apart and smashed to bits and left irreparable, that it couldn’t love anymore. 

Laurel has shown her that it’s still very much intact, and that she still very much can. 


End file.
